Rebels and Patriots (Imperium Cicernus Book 3)

by A. G. Claymore

  “You were Marines,” Urbica shouted. “There are only two Marines in this room.” She gestured toward Paul. “You were taken, out of uniform, while committing an act of piracy. I’m not going to bring disgrace to the Corps by processing you as Marines or even as ex-Marines.”

  One of the older prisoners spoke up. “You’ll never get away with this. We’re not as alone as you think.”

  She walked over to the man and kicked him in the chest. “You have no idea what I think,” she said as the man landed on his back. “You were from the 538. You left a couple of battalions in barracks but the rest are out here.

  “I very much doubt any of you have enough information to buy your lives. Most of you won’t even die as males, considering how many of my dragoons have lost family members over the last two years.

  “Every one of you is a pirate. Forget about personal honor, forget about the honor of the 538. Standing orders dictate that all pirates be executed upon capture. Spacing is specifically recommended but it has no prohibitions against the employment of extreme prisoner conditioning.

  “We’re going to interrogate each one of you, put you in a hell of a lot of pain and, if we don’t get any answers, carry out your mandated punishment in accordance with the Emperor’s Regulations and Orders, chapter one hundred twenty-eight, paragraph sixteen.”

  She looked back to her officer. “I’m going to have a look at their ships. Let me know when you’re done turning young Mister Hendricks into young Miss Hendricks.”

  Paul followed her up the grand staircase. They turned left and headed toward the open airlock at the port end of the passageway. They walked through, into the captured ship, and looked around at the forest of poles in the cargo area.

  “The export versions of Gray ships tend to be pretty low tech,” she told him. “No suit clamps and the avionics are actually reverse-engineered Human electronics. They never let their real gear fall into alien hands.” She shivered.

  Of all the alien races, none elicited such a deep visceral feeling of revulsion as the Grays. Legends went back through the veil of recorded time about abduction and experimentation. Even now, the few Grays within the Imperium gave the impression that they viewed their Human neighbors as little more than speaking animals.

  It was an impression that had led to more than a few murdered Grays, but the investigations were always half-hearted.

  She looked over at Paul. “No opinion on my handling of the prisoners, inspector?”

  “Not really.” Paul gave her a tired smile. “You’re absolutely correct in your assessment. They aren’t in uniform and they forced their way onto this ship. They’re pirates. You’re not just splicing the regulations here — this was a real-life act of piracy. I know the section of the ER & O you quoted and there’s no room for mitigation.

  “They might claim they were just following orders, but they have a responsibility to recognize an illegal command. Attacking Imperial citizens is about as illegal as it gets. They forfeited the right to call themselves Marines and I’ll shove them into an airlock myself if nobody else wants to.”

  Her smile was grim. “You’d have to get in line for that particular honor. By now, half the regiment knows they’re behind the missing Irricanans. I dropped that bomb so they’d be less conflicted when we get around to taking on the rest of the bastards.”

  Her eyes widened suddenly and she looked toward the cockpit. “We might just have a way to get the drop on them…”

  They both turned as an ordinance tech walked in with a case of antimatter grenades. “What are you planning to do with those,” she asked him, nodding at the case.

  “Orders to blow the ship, ma’am.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps, orders to return these grenades to the armory?”

  “Good man.” She gestured him toward the door, but called out to him as he reached the airlock. “Were you told to blow both ships or is someone placing demo charges on the second ship right now?”

  “Uh, just me for both, ma’am.”

  With a quick nod of acknowledgment, she gestured him on his way and opened a channel. “Majors Harris and Flokison.”

  After a brief pause she began issuing orders. “Tim, I’ve rescinded the destruct order for the captured ships; we might have a use for them. Ivar, do you have any pilots checked out on export Gray ships? Good, get them up here. I want both brought into the hangar. Run a full maintenance cycle on both.”

  She killed the channel and cast a sidelong glance at Paul. “I doubt we’ll be able to waltz onto the Dauntless once things heat up, but we can use these ships to sneak our people aboard.”

  “You think you can take a super-dreadnaught?”

  “Yes,” she said simply. “It may come to that. I don’t want to find myself caught between fake rebels and treasonous Navy gunners.

  Turning the Ambush

  Paul had just stepped into the shower when enemy contact was announced over the PA system. Cursing, he killed the water and stepped into the drying cubicle. Instead of getting clean, he was just baking the stink to a new level of offensiveness.

  He ran out to his cabin and backed into the SDF armor they’d provided him with. It closed around him at full deployment. He manually retracted the helmet and gloves and headed for the bridge.

  In the hallway, three cabins aft, a ground crew chief was shouting at his pilot to get his ass in gear. The running pilot ducked into the cabin and the chief followed, shouting obscenities at his ordinance tech.

  Paul raced down the stairs, through the lounge and started mashing the call panel for the elevator. It seemed stuck on deck seven, so he turned and raced back up the stairs, continuing across the passageway and up the next flight of stairs behind.

  He was surprised at how easy the steps were in the light SDF armor. He’d had the basic courses in the heavy Marine suits, and he’d expected the SDF versions to be even more difficult to operate.

  This armor may not offer much in the way of ballistic protection, but it seemed to enhance the user’s capabilities. Even Paul, augmented in every way money could buy, found he was able to move faster in the suit.

  He bounded out onto the command deck, waved at the guard and raced into the bridge.

  Colonel Urbica was already there, looking at the holo screens with one of her majors. She nodded at Paul as he approached. “Looks like Kinsey has decided to throw us a party after all.”

  Paul stood next to her and followed her gaze to the main screen. Four Khlens and one Hichef were swarming around a medium-range passenger carrier. The carrier had its back to an asteroid field so it had nowhere to run.

  Urbica grabbed the projected screen and stretched it out to provide a three-dimensional view. “They’re sure as hell taking their time about it, aren’t they?” she muttered.

  Paul nodded. “When that patrol thought we were harmless, they were on us in seconds, but these guys seem to be more interested in creating a sense of urgency.”

  “Hmmm…” Urbica responded absently. She stood near the projected passenger ship and peered into the asteroids behind it. “Inspector, give me a hand.”

  Somewhat bemused, Paul simply stood there, so she took his hand and led him into the asteroid field. She held it up, palm toward the beleaguered passenger ship and returned to her original position, once again, peering past the holographic ships.

  “Up a bit,” she told him. “Now move straight back. More… More… Wait! Come back a bit… There! Hold still.” She walked back over, putting her right fist against his palm. “Target,” she ordered.

  A target sphere appeared around her fist and she touched it’s edges, dragging her hands apart to enlarge it. She moved to starboard, holding up a fist. “Right here,” she told him.

  It had become clear to Paul that she was identifying lanes of fire through the asteroid field. At least, it had become clear once she’d let go of his hand and started giving directions.

  They identified seven probable lanes that overlooked the area around the apparent pirate
incident. The incident still hadn’t reached the boarding stage, which indicated the dragoons might have a slight advantage in sensor range.

  They might have been flying around the ship for hours, waiting until the dragoon ship was spotted before pressing home their ‘attack’.

  She stood back, looking satisfied with her work. A movement outside the bridge caught her eye and she closed the targeting overlay before the three squadron leaders walked in.

  “Gentlemen,” she greeted them, gesturing toward the holographic projection. “It looks like we haven’t been spotted yet, so we have time to sort out our dispositions.”

  They gathered around the projection.

  “What’s it been, five minutes since contact was called and they’re still poncing around their victim?” a dark haired-squadron leader asked. “Colonel, I smell rotten fish…”

  “You have a good nose, Liang,” she replied. “So what would you say we’re looking at?”

  He spent a few seconds taking in the overall picture, then, just like his boss had done, leaned in to peer past the passenger ship. He moved his head back and forth, nodding thanks to one of his fellow squadron leaders who moved into the field to help mark positions.

  The pair spent less than a minute at it and they conferred with the third squadron commander, who’d been looking at more extreme angles. They added two more targets to incorporate his findings.

  “Excellent,” Urbica declared. She re-opened her own overlay and they matched almost perfectly. “You managed to find one that I missed. She closed hers again.

  “We’ll work off your version. We have eight probable locations for ship destroyers. Liang and Dimitry, get your squadrons out of the hanger and infiltrate through the asteroid field. I want you to start with the SD’s,” she ordered, waving at the targets, “then start working your way out toward us.

  “They’ll probably be operating in accordance with standard Marine doctrine, so we can expect four or five fast-attack ships for every SD we find. There’s a good chance the FA’s will be concentrated here.” She indicated the outer edge of the field.

  “They’ll be planning to swarm out and overwhelm us when we charge in to save the passenger ship.” She looked at the three majors. “You might find easy pickings with those SD’s. They’re used to ship destroyers that can defend themselves, so they probably don’t deploy the same way Grays would. Chances are, they’ll be all alone back there.

  “Kill what you find, then spread out and sweep the field. This many SD’s would indicate they’ve committed two thirds of their aviation assets to this ambush. If we’re wrong, we might have three or four more lurking out there, meaning you might not have a ship to come home to.”

  “We’ll find the bastards,” Liang assured her.

  “Good.” She turned to the third major. “Eddie, we’re going to give the flanking attack twenty minutes to get in place, then we’ll charge in. As soon as the engines go to full ahead, you’ll launch all three ready-troops and move ahead of us.

  “The ship destroyers won’t waste fire on you unless they can destroy us first, so you can help build the illusion that we’re falling for their trick. Kill the ships we can see. By the time you finish with them, the SD’s should be handled and you can cordon off the field from the outside.”

  Liang grinned. “And we’ll drive the FA’s out toward you!” He gave Dimitry a thump on the shoulder. “Sounds good — let’s do it!”

  She smiled at them. “All right, get going, but leave some for Eddie’s boys.” She turned to the back of the bridge. “Beat to quarters.”

  “Beat to quarters, aye, ma’am.”

  As the alarm klaxon for General Quarters sounded throughout the ship, the three raced off like excited schoolboys heading for mischief.

  Urbica chuckled. “I had to shake the hell out of this regiment to find those three,” she told Paul. “The local SDF units were a mess. Some absolutely horrible officers with enough money to keep them in place and a few hidden stars like those guys.

  “I ended up fabricating evidence to get rid of some of the better-connected deadwood, but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. You should have seen them fight at the Carbon Well. They sent the Grays home with green faces.”

  It was a common saying among the Grays. Their blood used copper to carry oxygen instead of iron. It tended to turn green after a few moments of exposure to oxygen.

  It took roughly fifteen minutes to get the two flanking squadrons out of the converted hangar. One squadron was already sitting in the massive airlock and it was a simple matter of opening the outer door to launch them.

  The second squadron had to wait while the crew sealed the door, pumped the air back in, moved their ships into the lock and pumped the air out before opening the outer door again. An energy shield would have been far more efficient, but there simply wasn’t room. Military hangar-shields required a string of redundant reactors to keep the power-hungry emitters running.

  Paul watched the holo as the hazy green ships began working their way toward the rear of the suspected ship destroyer positions. It was hard to believe the moving icons represented a battle in the making.

  It had all seemed plausible when they were formulating their plans but he suddenly felt the whole thing was a huge gamble based on very little data.

  “Well, of course it is,” Urbica told him when he confessed his thoughts. “Welcome to combat. The next fight I get into where I know all the angles will be the first.”

  She waved a hand at the five ships. “They still haven’t done anything but fly around in circles. When they came after us, we had their ships in our hangar by this point. I’m about as certain as I’ve ever been.

  “I suppose Kinsey thinks he’s being clever, using our own tactics against us.” She looked away at the sound of a chime. “Time to go. Helm — all ahead full. Unmask the batteries.”

  “All ahead full, aye,

  ma’am.”

  “Weapons unmasking, ma’am.”

  The ships of the ready-squadron came streaking out from the flanks of the Rope a Dope as the old liner accelerated. They angled in toward the mock battle, forming into troops as they spread out.

  The five ‘attackers’ milled about for a few seconds, then ducked into the asteroid field. It was what you would expect from raiders. They wouldn’t dare fire on a superior force for fear it would ensure a pursuit into the dubious refuge of the asteroids.

  A red flash caught Paul’s eye and he turned to see a holographic image of a ship destroyer at the back of the nearest estimated position. Almost as quickly as he’d noticed the ship’s icon, it went gray.

  “Splash one Sierra Delta,” an officer called out.

  Three more blinked into view and were gray within thirty seconds. Before Paul could even form an opinion on the speed of the dragoon’s advance, two more SD’s were found and dispatched.

  The holo showed the blocking squadron had reached its assigned position and the Rope a Dope was coming into the firing envelope determined by the assessed SD positions. If Urbica was nervous about the undiscovered SD’s, Paul certainly couldn’t tell from looking at her.

  The two flanking squadrons were now moving toward the blocking units but they had already passed through the last of the likely positions for a ship destroyer.

  “At least the Grays don’t mount antimatter weapons on their export versions,” Urbica muttered.

  So she was worried, Paul realized; she’s just very good at concealing it.

  The deck plating shuddered beneath them and a shrieking noise battered at their eardrums as a two-hundred-kilo slug sliced down the starboard flank. It vaporized against the hull, much of its force dissipating into space.

  “Still not showing up on anyone’s sensors,” an officer yelled.

  Julia stepped into the holo and marked a point. “It came from this neighborhood. Open fire on the asteroids in between. Maybe we can put enough rubble in the way to stop their rounds from getting to us.”

  The
chatter of the ship’s guns was intensely satisfying for Paul, who was trying very hard not to shake. It felt good to be shooting, even if it was just at rocks.

  “Any second now,” she announced.

  As if on cue, there was a brilliant flash as the next round impacted a rock and sent a maelstrom of rock and plasma in their direction.

  A red icon showed up near Urbica’s target and the two ships that had found it put it down before it could recharge its launch rails.

  A haze of red icons began to appear near the edge of the asteroid field. Paul counted close to thirty but it was hard to be sure. They were moving out of the field and into the fire of Eddie’s troopers.

  Even though his squadron only had twenty-two ships, he still held the advantage. The enemy were tumbling out of the asteroid field in no particular order. They were desperate to evade the overwhelming enemy contacts coming from an area where they expected nothing but supporting fire.

  As they left the asteroid field in piecemeal fashion, the blocking squadron was able to concentrate a devastating hail of fire on the individual ships. Some tried to break out at the edge of the battle, but they were easily dealt with by the widely spread ships of the two flanking squadrons.

  The order-of-battle table on one of the holo screens showed seven ship destroyers engaged and eliminated, twenty-eight fast-attack ships engaged and twenty-six destroyed as well as four command and control ships, three destroyed and one disabled.

  Urbica was looking down at the deck, reviewing the results through her own retinal projections. The implant had a much better resolution than the modular system Paul was looking at.

  She nodded at something only she could hear. “Roger that, Liang. Bring it in. We’ll see if we can fix it. Might come in very handy. Good work every one.” She let out a deep breath as she killed the channel.

  “Any casualties on our side?” Paul asked her.

  She sighed. “Two ships, nineteen troopers.” She was still looking down at the floor. “Sounds like they just happened to fly past the guns of enemy ships who snapped off a shot at the right moment. Just dumb luck.”